Now the ball is like rotting manure and it has come to a standstill. It is festering amidst its own putrid excrement, which yet it is unable to smell - unable to notice. Once useful now useless and distorted parts of it are decomposing -- pure loathing in hopeless inertia, seeking to absorb any other matter into itself... anything to keep existing as itself -- yet only doomed to fall off with nothing left to do but get up and realize "the damage" (lest it disappears into nothingness -- an absurdly unbearable thought to fully conceive, for fear that it might be realized by the doing).

It could be beautiful, like the increasing intensity of colour in a bubble struggling for cohesion before it pops...but it isn't. For there's no heroic nor uniform struggling for cohesion here in the final throes. Only cowardice, hypocrisy and betrayal, though yes... inevitably and ultimately - annihilation.

Denial in the meantime is useless, only serving to multiply the pain to exponential degrees -- a fact revealing the true nature of its allure, being product of the human mind with its unfathomable potential for sickness and distortion. The horror... the horror. Such insight could long not be afforded though. There's only numbness, or else pain.